


Abducted

by Hime_no_Kowai_Shumi



Category: NCIS
Genre: Multi, Polyamorous Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hime_no_Kowai_Shumi/pseuds/Hime_no_Kowai_Shumi
Summary: The call is the catalyst that sets off a string of coincidences. Except he knew they didn't exist. OT3, multi-chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new fic. More Gibbs/Jenny/Abby OT3. When I started to form this fic in my head, I debated how exactly to write it, so this is what I came up with. Basically, this is a re-write of the season 5 finale because I just deny that it exists.

 

The rhythmic sounds of Android Lust faded as the club’s door shut behind the Gothic scientist. The air was bitter cold, and she shivered as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. It was rare that she took the back exit out of the club, but she’d had a hinky feeling throughout the night. Initially, she’d assumed that it was her imagination. When the feeling didn’t go away after a few hours, she bid her friends a good night and headed out. It was just after 0200, and she was so ready for bed.

The cold air helped clear her mind, but she felt way more drunk than she should’ve. She’d had maybe two dirty margaritas and felt like she’d had four or more. Maybe she had been imagining the feeling in the club. After her stalker incident a few years back, she knew she couldn’t be too careful; she never accepted an offer for a drink, never left it unattended. She even took to carrying a can of mace in her purse just in case. She’d slipped it into her coat pocket, her phone resting safely in the other. She knew if any of her coworkers knew she parked so far away from the club, she’d get a lecture, but she loved being able to walk through the snow. Of course, she could always do that if she parked closer, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

A noise behind her made her stop her inner monologue. Her hand tightened around the can of mace. She turned slowly, expecting to find some person behind her. To her surprise, there was no phantom person. Instead, a stray cat blinked up at her.

“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed softly, bending down and holding out her hand, “come here. I’ll take you somewhere warm.”

The cat purred, stepping closer to sniff at her hand. She didn’t feel the presence behind her until it was too late to react. A hand came around, pressing tight against her mouth. She let out a cry in surprise, automatically trying to pull the mace out of her pocket.

The assailant’s other hand grabbed her wrist; his voice was thick, a Russian accent, “Hush now, sweetie. You won’t get away.”

She struggled against the hold, feeling a haze start to fall over her. Vaguely, she heard tires. A car was pulling up beside them.

“Viggo, the car.”

“Da,” the man replied.

“Rafik left the note. He’s in the car.” This was said in Russian. God, she was glad she’d taken those lessons in college.

She felt her knees start to go weak. The rough pawing at her coat made her wish she’d asked a bouncer to walk her to her car. Rod was there. He would’ve. The man, Viggo, grabbed her cell phone, and she was sure she could feel his smirk, “I’m going to borrow this, sweetie.”

Her world swirled around her, and then darkness swam over her vision.

* * *

 

God, she was so late. She’d wanted to be at the office half an hour ago. As it was, it was a little after 0800.

“Director Shepard,” Cynthia greeted her as she made her way into the office, holding out various forms and mail.

“Cynthia, good morning,” she replied, taking the documents from her secretary, “I know I’m late. My meeting with SecNav starts in a few minutes, so I’ll need you to hold my calls.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she opened the door to her office, stepping inside, “also…”

“You’re late, Jen.” Jethro’s voice came from the couch. His voice was observant, a small smirk on his lips.

She rolled her eyes, setting the documents on her desk, “Good morning, Special Agent Gibbs. If you must know, I spilled coffee this morning and had to change. I have a meeting in about 10 minutes. Let’s make this quick.” She sent a nod towards Cynthia, and the door closed behind the woman, “How did last night go?”

“Worked on the boat.”

Confused, she turned to look at him, “Abby didn’t stay over?”

“Nope. Thought she’d come in with you today.”

She rolled her eyes at the wording, gathering up her files, “No.”

“She texted last night, said your place was closer. She’d had a few beers, was gonna take a cab.”

She paused briefly, “I got the same text.”

He stood up, pulling out his phone, “She went to the club on 12th and 18th.”

She walked around the desk, placing a hand on his arm, “Jethro, you’re overreacting.”

He looked at her, worry shining in his eyes, “Something doesn’t feel right, Jen.”

“We agreed you wouldn’t do this,” She reminded him. That was true. After Mawher, he hadn’t wanted her to leave his sight, wanting her to check in every hour if she went out. Abby had started to feel claustrophobic, and she’d been able to get him to relent. “She’s not a child, Jethro. She’s our girlfriend, our partner. And she’s just a little late.” He frowned at her, and she sighed. “She probably went home after clubbing and overslept.” He pressed his coffee cup into her hand, the question clear in his eyes, “I know, it doesn’t make sense, Jethro. But it’s Abby. If she hasn’t come in within the hour, send out the search party.” She joked, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, “Gotta go to my meeting. Thank you for the coffee.”

He held back a sigh, moving to open the door for her.

* * *

 

The hour came and went and still, there was no sign of Abby. It wasn’t like her to be late. Hell, when there was a case, she hardly left the building. In the rare instances that she would be late, she’d always call or text, even e-mail. It was just hinky. He grabbed his desk phone, calling Abby’s cell. He waited as it rang. Once. Twice. And then it connected.

“Abby, where are you?”

There was a pause and then, “Gibbs, is that you?” _That wasn’t Abby_.

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Detective Garrison, Mike Garrison, Metro homicide. We worked a case together last year.”

_Homicide_. It was the only word revolving in his head. No, no, Abby couldn’t be…

“Special Agent Gibbs, you there?”

“Yeah.” He forced his lungs to draw in air, his voice not to crack. “Yeah, I’m here.” The thought of losing Abby…

“Like I said, this man had your girl’s phone. Not sure how. If you and your team wanted to come down, I think we can work jointly on this.”

“Why?”

“I owe you one,” Detective Garrison answered. “Club on 12th and 18th, it’s called...”

“Shadow Tomb,” he interrupted, “Be there soon.” The call was disconnected then, and he took a moment to get his bearings before grabbing his gun and shield, “Grab your gear. Got a body.”

The four agents jumped up, following him to the elevator. If his hand shook as he hit the button for the ground level, they didn’t comment.

* * *

 

Her head was aching as she slowly came to. She blinked as she snuggled into the warm blankets, trying to push away the fog. The last thing she could remember was that poor cat out in the cold. Slowly, pieces started coming back to her. She was roofied. Three men. Something about a car.

She looked around, catching sight of a large window; she could make out the snow falling outside. She was in a log cabin; it looked well-kept from what she could tell. The bed she was on was furnished, comfortable, the wooden door a few feet away closed. She still wore her clubbing outfit, minus her shoes. She sat up slowly, feeling dizzy. She had no idea where she was. From the sunlight outside, it looked to be morning, but she couldn’t figure out the exact time. She could really be anywhere within four to six hours of D.C. But these woods, they looked familiar. Maybe…

Her headache pulled her from her thoughts, the pounding intense. All she wanted to do was sleep. But she had no idea who kidnapped her or even why. She heard footsteps, and then the door was being opened. She expected to see a man, maybe six foot one, but instead a woman stepped into the room, five six, blonde, dark-blue eyes. There was something dark in her eyes as she made her way into the room. Unless she was imagining it. It was gone a moment later.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” The woman’s accent was Russian. The first man had also spoken with a Russian accent. She opened her mouth to reply, but the woman shushed her, “I wouldn’t try to talk right now. Flunitrazepam makes you drowsy, correct?” She stared at her blankly, trying to get her thoughts straight. “I suppose it would be rude to not introduce myself. And I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” the woman stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. “Well, you really are a beauty, aren’t you? I can see why they love you.” She felt a shudder run along her spine. _What was this about_?  “My name is Svetlana Chernitskaya. And you, Dr. Sciuto, are my hostage.”

* * *

 

In the morning light, Shadow Tomb didn’t seem so mysterious. The last time, with Abby all but dragging him inside, he’d been skeptical. Despite the loud music, it had been an okay place, even if it wasn’t his scene. The bouncers all checked out, the bartender was a dark-haired woman who flirted with everyone, and Abby was just happy he’d joined her. Bourbon and a boat, it wasn’t, but watching his girl having fun was enough for him.

He turned back to the crime scene, an impassive look on his face. The man was shot point blank in the back of the head, execution style. He turned Abby’s phone over in his hand, frowning. A dead guy with Abby’s phone? Didn’t make sense at all. A soft meow caught his attention, and he turned, seeing a charcoal-grey cat looking up at him. He knelt, and it purred softly, rubbing against his legs.

“Boss,” DiNozzo came up to him, the camera secure in his hand, and he stood, turning to look at him, “why is Metro letting us do a joint investigation?”

He handed him the evidence bag with Abby’s phone, “That’s why.”

“Abby’s phone?”

“Metro found it in his pocket.”

“McGee is getting the witness statement.”

He looked over to where McGee stood, talking with one of the bouncers.

“Gibbs!” Kate’s voice called out, “Found something.”

He met Kate and Ziva in front of a familiar looking hearse. _Why did she always park so far away_? She could’ve parked closer to the club; it wouldn’t have hurt a damn thing.

A note was under the windshield wiper, a small corner of it damp from the melted snow. Luckily for them, it barely snowed last night. He opened it carefully.

**_You deserve nothing_ **

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This took a while to write because I just couldn't concentrate, and my mind pulled me in so many directions. Hope you enjoyed!

 

The ride down to the evidence garage was filled with a lot of inner monologue.

It made no sense for her to send them both a text, decide to go home, and not tell them. Even if she was wasted, which she wouldn’t have been because of work the next day, she would’ve called. But this note, this changed everything. It wasn’t just a case of her being late, as she’d originally thought. _You deserve nothing_. She’d been taken. What did it mean? No matter how many times she read it, it didn’t become any clearer. Encased in the evidence bag, it felt so much heavier than it was.

“Director.”

She turned towards the voice to see Ziva stepping off the elevator. It wasn’t like her to not hear the elevator, but right now, with her thoughts on Abby, she should’ve expected to be easily spooked. She was anxious, afraid. Despite the situation, she found herself smiling softly, “Ziva.”

“You’re worried, yes?”

She set the note down, considered lying, “A bit.”

“You should see Gibbs.”

In her mind’s eye, she could. Pacing, anxious, barking out orders, “What brings you down here, Ziva?”

“I was told to bring the evidence up to our temporary scientist.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. I have a meeting soon.” She started towards the elevator, and Ziva reached out, grabbed her arm gently.

“We will find her, Jenny.”

Right now, she hated how perceptive Ziva was, like she knew exactly what the true nature of their relationship with Abby was.

She wet her lips, forced her voice not to shake, “I know.”

The elevator doors shut behind her, and her hand shook as she hit the button to take her to the third floor. Here, in private, she could allow her walls to drop, her worry to grow. The note was too personal for it to be for Abby. Which meant it was for someone else. But who?

* * *

 

“My name is Svetlana Chernitskaya. And you, Dr. Sciuto, are my hostage.”

“Hostage?”

The girl really was gorgeous, pale skin, tattoos, stunning green eyes. She smirked, moved to stand beside the bed, “It means you’ll be here for a while.”

She was sure a million questions were running through her mind, but only one came out, “Why?”

“Because they took someone from me, so I’ll take you from them.”

“What are you talking about?”

No, this wouldn’t do. She needed to fully comprehend why she was there, “I see you’re still tired, so I’ll leave you to sleep awhile longer, Doctor.”

She heard the bed creak as her captive tried to move, but she knew the drug was too strong. There wouldn’t be any need to worry about her escaping. The wooden door closed behind her with a dull _thunk_.

_Soon, you’ll be avenged, my beloved_.

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure what time it was when the sound of footsteps woke her. She glimpsed outside to see that the sun had changed position, but it could’ve been anywhere between ten a.m. and five p.m. The door opened slowly, and one of the men looked her over as he stepped into the room, holding a bowl of something that smelled _really_ good.  
  
“Lunch,” he said, placing it down on the bedside table.  
  
He gave her one last look before leaving, shutting the door behind him, loud in the otherwise quiet room. She peered into the bowl to see tomato soup. She was hungry, but she knew better than to eat it. It could be laced with drugs, and considering how she was brought here, it probably was. Her stomach growled in protest, but she ignored it. Eventually, she wouldn’t be able to avoid eating, but for now, she would be fine.

* * *

 

He sat in his chair, trying to make sense of it all. Who would want to take Abby? His heart was aching for her. And that note stumped him.  _You deserve nothing_. Why? Abby was a pacifist. She wouldn’t hurt anyone. The team had gone through her phone records, her credit card history, everything they could think of, but they’d come up with nothing. Even checking in on Mikel Mawher and Charles Sterling, they’d found the men were still incarcerated and hadn’t had any visitors. It was frustrating.

“Jethro.” He looks up at Jen’s voice to find her standing in front of his desk.

“Jen.”

“Lost in thought,” it’s a statement more than a question, but he answered it anyway.

“Trying to make sense of it,” He stood, grabbing his gun and shield, slipping on his jacket.

“Where’s your team?”

“Getting dinner. Come on, let’s get coffee.” He escorted her to the elevator, his hand low on her back. She relaxed into him, a sign that she was stressed. All Director on the outside, but still, a worried girlfriend on the inside, “We’ll get her back, Jen.”

“I know.”

* * *

 

They stopped at the diner for a bite to eat and coffee, getting takeout to eat back at the office. They didn’t really talk much on the way back, settling into her office instead of going back to his desk. She knew he didn’t have much of an appetite. The worry, not knowing anything, was getting to him. But she knew they had to eat. They had to keep focused. If they didn’t, they’d be no use to Abby. For a while, they sat in silence, but it came up eventually.

“If it’s not someone Abby helped put away…” she started.

Jethro sighed, “It’s something more personal.”

They were missing something, something important. But she had no idea what. By ten pm, she’d already sent Cynthia home and he’d been up in her office a few times to update her. When he walked in and sat on her couch at a quarter ‘til midnight, she figured something was wrong. But he only leaned back against the couch, throwing a hand over his eyes.

“Sent the team home.”

“What about you?”

“Just gonna rest my eyes for a couple minutes.”

She didn’t reply, opening her email.

* * *

 

_Her skin was paler than normal, green eyes lifeless. He wanted this to be a sick joke, but he knew underneath the sheet was the Y-incision, could see the way Ducky had worked to hide the bullet wound, and he knew – he_ knew _– she wasn’t there anymore. He stroked her hair gently, trying to take in every detail. How could he have let this happen?_

_He turned, intending to leave Autopsy, but she grabbed his wrist roughly, her eyes catching his._

_“Why didn’t you save me, Gibbs?”_

* * *

 

He woke with a start, Abby’s name on his lips. He bit it back, running a hand over his face as he sat up. The light from Jen’s desk lamp shined over the room, the redhead sitting at her desk, her face a mask of concentration, typing away.

“What time is it?”

She didn’t look at him, focused on the screen, “Early. 4, 5. You’ve only been a sleep a few hours.”

He got up, moved to peer over her shoulder, “What are you working on?”

“I found a contact who can help. I’m emailing them.”

Over a dozen emails between Jen and the contact, but it was hard to read. Jen wordlessly offered her glasses, “Our victim was an arms dealer?”

“Looks like a hired gun.”

“The fingerprints aren’t done running yet.” _Abby would’ve already gotten them_.

“My contact has him meeting with three other men. Looks like they were working for the same woman.”

“Coincidence,” he replied.

“Paris, ’99,” she met his gaze, realization dawning, “Those two arms dealers.”

Jen pulled up the two files on her TV. One, a man, dark hair, cold eyes, a red X through his face, “Anatoly Zhukov.” The other a woman, blonde, blue eyes, “Svetlana Chernitskaya. She escaped, right?”

“A moment of weakness. I couldn’t – ” she bit back a sigh, “If she’s alive, she might be living under an alias. But why?”

He frowned, thinking.

_You deserve nothing_.

“The note was for us. This is revenge.”

* * *

 

It was just a theory, and until they got the report back from the temporary scientist, they couldn’t corroborate it, but if this woman did have Abby, then they needed to get her back soon. They returned to NCIS 30 minutes after they left, fresh clothes on and cups of coffee. Instead of going back to her office, however, they worked at his desk, trying to come up with possible theories. How would Svetlana know they were together, and more importantly, what was her alias?

By 0700, Ziva was making her way in. They quickly put her to work, having her get in contact with Mossad to see if they had any leads. By 0730, Kate was in, and she worked on getting the victim’s file. When Tim got in at 0800, he headed down to the lab to analyze the surveillance cameras and help with anything the temp needed. Tony, arriving with him, took the elevator to see if Ducky had anything. God, he hoped Ducky had _something_. Anything to tie Svetlana to this. Otherwise, they were looking at this from the wrong angle. He headed out for coffee, and when he got back, he saw that they had a new visitor. He frowned, handing the extra cup to Jen.

“Decker.”

“Gibbs.” The man looks battered but otherwise unharmed.

“Thought you retired.”

“I did.” He looked at the picture of the victim on the screen, turning back to them, “Any place we can talk?”

They go up to Jen’s office, and his gut is churning. This wasn’t good news.

“What happened?” Jen questioned.

Decker looked at them, frowning, “My ex-girlfriend was in contact with your dead guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: More to come! Please don't forget to review! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All work and no play leaves little time for fanfic writing, but I finally got this chapter done. Enjoy!

*Previously*

_“Decker.”_

_“Gibbs.” The man looks battered but otherwise unharmed._

_“Thought you retired.”_

_“I did.” He looked at the picture of the victim on the screen, turning back to them, “Any place we can talk?”_

_They go up to Jen’s office, and his gut is churning. This wasn’t good news._

_“What happened?” Jen questioned._

_Decker looked at them, frowning, “My ex-girlfriend was in contact with your dead guy.”_

* * *

 

The tension in Jen’s office could’ve been cut with a knife.

“We always knew this could come back to haunt us.” Decker said softly, “I just didn’t think…”

He cursed under his breath, exchanging a look with Jen. This definitely wasn’t good.

Jen frowned, “How do you know she was in contact?”

“She started asking about finding Oshimaida. And then she came at me.”

“And you’re sure that’s him?” he asked.

Decker nodded, “His name is Viggo Drantyev. I got in contact with the NCIS base in LA before I came here. Viggo and three other hitmen have been on a watchlist for some time. Apparently, they’ve been hired.”

Jen moved to her computer, pulling up files to display on her plasma: Viggo’s and Svetlana’s, “By her?”

Decker’s eyes darkened, “She’s going by Natasha Lenkov according to the intel I have, but yeah. That’s her.”

As they slowly digested the information that they were right, his cell started ringing, “Gibbs.”

“Boss,” Tony’s voice came from the other, “Ducky found something.”

“On my way.” He ended the call, headed for the door, “Autopsy.”

* * *

 

There wasn’t much to do while kidnapped besides sleep and hope for a rescue party, but she was determined to do something besides twiddle her thumbs. After all, there was only so much sleeping she could do in one day before she got restless. She found that the window wouldn’t open, and the door locked from the outside. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about the room. It was well-kept, beautiful even. If she wasn’t terrified, she would’ve enjoyed it better.

The bowl of soup sat untouched on the bedside table, having long gone cold. She tried not to think about it because even cold and potentially poisoned, it was better than nothing. She barely ate anything at the club, so her last meal was around noon the previous day, and she wasn’t quite sure what time it was. With no alarm clock in the room, all she had to go on for time was the sunlight outside. She’d studied sundials growing up because they were interesting. And based on the sun’s location right now, it was just after 3 pm. Or maybe 4 pm. It had been awhile since she’d looked at the sun for the time.

It seemed like the only way out of the room was either to break the window or go through the door. Her clubbing clothes weren’t suitable for the weather, and her coat wasn’t anywhere in the room. Which meant it was either left outside the club or it was somewhere in this cabin. Those were the two scenarios.

If her phone was here, in the cabin, it would be in her coat. They would’ve probably turned it off, but she could turn it on, make a call, send a text. Surely the team had realized something was wrong, and if not them, Gibbs and Jenny would’ve. Her phone could be traced. The other outcome was that it was outside the club, which meant even if she couldn’t make a call, the team would know she was in trouble. They’d find her.

The first scenario seemed more likely. Her captor would make sure her phone was off, so it couldn’t be traced. It would be kept in the cabin, so no one would suspect immediately that she was missing. With that in mind, she turned her thoughts on a plan. Even if it was nothing big, she had to think of a way to get out of the room at least. If she did, she could figure out the next step.

She closed her eyes, trying to envision a plan in her head.

Step 1: Get out of the room

Step 2: Find her coat/get her phone

Step 3: Get help

It would be tricky, but she could do this. This Svetlana woman had no idea who she was up against.

* * *

 

Tony looked up when Autopsy’s doors opened, slightly grateful. He loved Ducky’s stories, but right now, he was more concerned about Abby.

“Ah, Jethro, right on time.”

“Whaddaya got, Duck?”

Ducky moved over to the body, gesturing, “A cause of death.”

“Bullet didn’t kill him?”

“One would think that, but no, the bullet was an afterthought to make sure he was dead. I found ligature marks around his neck.”

Gibbs peered closer, “Manual strangulation?”

“Precisely.”

“Did you pull any prints?”

“Our temporary Forensic scientist is taking care of it. He did, however, get a match to our victim’s prints. His name…”

“ – is Viggo Drantyev.”

“Why yes.”

“Thanks, Duck.”

He quickly followed Gibbs to the elevator, “Boss, how did you know that?”

He wasn’t surprised when Gibbs merely smirked.

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure how long it had been before the door opened again; she was expecting one of the men. Instead Svetlana stood on the other side.

“It is time for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve not eaten today, and I’m growing bored with your defiance.”

“I told you…”

“You, Doctor, are a terrible liar. And since you won’t eat in your room, you shall eat with me in the dining area.” She stepped forward, into the room, “If you do, I’ll provide you with your Caf-Pow drink.” Despite herself, she perked up. Svetlana smirked, “Oh? Does that interest you? Come now.”

She hesitated for a split second, but this was her chance. To get out of the room. To get home.

“How do I know you won’t…”

“Drug you?” she nodded, “I have no need to drug you anymore. You won’t be escaping.”

“What about your goons?”

“They’re out right now. It will just be us. But even if they were here, they wouldn’t touch you.”

“And how do I know that?”

“Because while you’re with me, you’re safe. And you don’t need to worry because I’ll never let you leave.” She didn’t like the cold look in her eyes, an involuntary shudder running along her spine. “Now, come.”

* * *

 

He sent DiNozzo back upstairs to coordinate his findings with the team. He took a breath before stepping out of the elevator towards Abby’s lab. The lack of music hit him first. It wasn’t Abby’s lab without the music. Hell, his free hand felt empty without the Caf-Pow he usually brought. He found the tech at Major Mass Spec, putting in samples.

The temporary lab tech was around Abby’s age, tall, lanky, blonde hair, dark green eyes. The lab coat he wore bore the NCIS logo, but he was only temporary. The man looked up at him as he stepped into the room.

“Special Agent Gibbs, right on time. I’m Dr. Earl Bradford.”

“Whaddaya got?”

“I’ve matched the set of fingerprints found on the victim’s neck to an Igor Zotov. I also analyzed the note left on Dr. Sciuto’s car.”

“Any prints on that?”

“Yes, sir. To a Rafik Volodin.”

“Where’s McGee?” McGee was good, but the surveillance tapes should’ve taken longer. And he would’ve called if he found something.

“I sent him back upstairs. He was impeding my work.”

Maybe it was the way he said it, but he felt his anger start to rise, “When I send someone down to help you, Doc, I expect you to take it.”

“I’ll remember that for next time, Special Agent Gibbs.”

The dismissal in the younger man’s tone had him heading swiftly towards the elevator. He knew he shouldn’t take it personally, and he didn’t need to get into an argument with a temp. The two names stuck out in his mind. Igor Zotov and Rafik Volodin. Igor had murdered Viggo for reasons he wasn’t sure of. Rafik had left the note to taunt them. Igor, Rafik and Viggo were involved with Svetlana. Decker had said there were four men. Could this mystery man be a getaway driver? There were too many possibilities. Those surveillance tapes needed analyzed.

* * *

 

The room she’d be felt like a closet compared to the cabin’s open-concept interior. There was dining table in the middle of the room, the kitchen taking up a corner of the cabin, complete with a counter and small stove, a fireplace on the opposite corner. There was a small refrigerator so that meant there was a generator at least. But the rest of the cabin was bare, not even a rug. Couldn’t they have at least made it look welcoming? She took notice of the three doors. One had to be a bathroom, right? And the other two led outside, the windows beside them showing the cold December day.

“Come sit down, Doctor.” She sat slowly, trying to take in her surroundings. There was no sign of her coat, which wasn’t good. She needed to find it and fast. She only had a few chances before Svetlana would get suspicious of her sudden cooperation. She nearly jumped when a bottle of Caf-Pow was set in front of her, “I know it’s not the size you’d prefer, but this should keep you happy, yes?”

She took the bottle, and seeing that the seal was intact, opened it. She sipped it slowly, wanting it to last, “Thank you.”

Her captor didn’t reply, going back to the kitchen. The smell of food made her stomach growl, and she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. _Traitor_.

Svetlana placed a plate of grilled cheese in front of her, moving to sit on the opposite side, “Eat.” She looked at it with a frown, “It’s not poison, Dr. Sciuto.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

“A couple months,” _Months_? “The cabin isn’t in my name, I paid with cash when I bought the food yesterday. The Caf-Pow you have is the only one they had in store.”

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Everything will be explained in time.”

“But…”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Dr. Sciuto. You’ll get your answers when I decide to give them to you. Tell me about yourself.”

“What about me?”

“I want to know more about you.”

She frowned, “I don’t want to talk about me.”

“Oh, but I do. I already know so much.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Svetlana smirked, “So defensive. I’ve done my research. You grew up in Jefferson Parrish, Louisiana. Your brother still lives in New Orleans, a chef; your parents, deceased, were both deaf. You’re fluent in ASL because of them. You applied to NCIS after graduating college, and while you hold a doctorate in many scientific fields, you don’t like being called Doctor because you like your individuality. Am I getting close yet?” she glared back at her, “You’ve had a few relationships in the past, but you’ve never done what you’re doing now, dating two people at once. But it makes sense, two lovers, double the pleasure.”

“That’s enough,” she replied. She didn’t like her life on display like this, didn’t like the judging.

“It’s no wonder you’re dating older, though, is it? Trying to replace Mommy and Daddy.”

She couldn’t stop her anger from flaring, slamming her hands on the table as she stood, “Shut up!”

“Oh?” her blonde captor smirked up at her, “Have I struck a nerve?”

“When they find out I’m missing, nothing is going to stop Gibbs and Jenny from finding me.”

“We’ll see, won’t we, Dr. Sciuto?”

“If you know so much about me already, why ask?”

“Because everyone has secrets. Now then, back to your room. Go.”

She left her half-eaten sandwich, her Caf-Pow empty.

* * *

 

Jenny sighed softly, leaning back in her chair, running a hand over her face. She’d been up for over 36 hours, but despite her exhaustion, she knew she couldn’t sleep. Abby had been missing for those 36, theoretically longer, and it was her fault. If she had taken Svetlana out when she had her shot, this wouldn’t be happening now. She could remember the night like it was yesterday: cold, dark.

The streetlights had been dulled, her target cursing on the phone, trying to get hold of Jethro’s target, she knew later. People passed by, but they were dwindling with the passing hour. All it would take was two shots. All she had to do was pull the trigger. But she couldn’t. The woman was her age, had her whole life ahead of her. She could remember thinking if Zhukov died, maybe Svetlana would turn over a new leaf. She hesitated, letting her target slip past her.

She was pulled from her thoughts when the door opened, Cynthia appearing in the doorway, “Director, you have a meeting in MTAC in five minutes.”

“Thank you, Cynthia. I’ll be there shortly.”

She pushed the memory from her mind, grabbing the necessary files from her desk as she headed for MTAC. She had to focus on this meeting, and then she could allow her thoughts to focus back on the situation at hand. She pushed all thoughts of Abby, of her predicament, to the back of her mind. She had to. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to get through the meeting. It was days like today, when her mind was on her private life, that she resented being the director.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! More to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Was able to get this chapter out on a day off work, so be happy. Enjoy!  
> EDIT - As I was re-reading chapter 4, I realized there was a timeline error, so I removed the Abby scene from this chapter. It will be placed in chapter 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please review and let me know what you think!

The squad room was tense, retired-Special Agent Decker's appearance both seeming to motivate Gibbs and the Director and make them extremely wary of what they said. It was stressful. Abby was like a sister to him, and he knew she was like that with Kate and Ziva and Tony too. Well Tony was her best friend but still. They were just as worried. But Gibbs seemed more than worried, beating himself up, though he had no reason to be. Sure, he had a theory, but right now, there were no details shared.

There were no Mc-nicknames from Tony, no mistaken idioms from Ziva. Kate was always focused but he had to bring her food to make sure she ate. Neither Ducky nor Jimmy had stories to tell when they came up to deliver the tox report and other findings on the body. Abby had been missing for nearly 40 hours now, and he felt like the only sane one. But he realized that he was drinking a lot of Caf-Pow. It was frustrating, not knowing where she was, even more frustrating that Dr. Bradford outright refused his help. Did he not realize how important finding Abby was?  
Gibbs looked up at the catwalk when the door to MTAC opened, and he immediately followed his gaze. Director Shepard was leaving her meeting, handing off documents to Cynthia. He noticed the way the other woman held herself was different. Ziva had said that she was affected by Abby's disappearance too, but he hadn't thought it was that bad when he saw her that morning. Now though, he could see it. She looked exhausted, and he wondered when the last time she'd slept was. He turned back to the plasma when she started walking down the stairs. From the corner of his eye, he could make out the look between her and Gibbs. He let out an inaudible sigh as Gibbs escorted her away from the squad room, back towards the stairs. He hated secrets.

* * *

The corner behind the stairs wasn't ideal for private conversations, but they both knew no one would disturb them. She let out a sigh as she looked up at him, waiting for him to speak.

"You should get some sleep, Jen."

That was what he couldn't say in front of his team? "Not until we find Abby."

"She wouldn't want you running yourself ragged."

She smiled softly, "She barely slept for three days when Tony was accused of murder." Forget sleep. Abby had rarely left her lab for those three days.

He smirked, "Not for lack of trying." He had tried, numerous times in fact, but Abby was stubborn.

And then Abby had found evidence that proved Tony was innocent. There was the welcome-back party. She'd handed him the unsealed records from Stuart's case against Baltimore.

" _You're a little late, Jen," she scoffed, offended. He smiled cheekily, "Uh, I mean, thank you, Director."_

" _Better, Jethro." He flipped through a few pages and then suddenly he was racing towards the stairs, "Jethro?" His team was immediately following him. The document laid open on his desk, a picture of Charles Sterling testifying in the trial. She moved immediately, realization setting it. The assistant she'd hired for Abby had set up Tony, and likely had also set up Stuart to take the fall this time as well._

" _Abby!" She heard Gibbs yell, gun drawn as he and DiNozzo entered her lab first._

_The amount of fear that shot through her when she entered the lab was nothing compared to the icy terror that slid down her spine at seeing Abby slouched in her chair. Beakers and other equipment littered the floor, empty Caf-Pow cups. And then Abby, dead on her feet exhausted, spun around on the chair. One of her pigtails was crooked, T-shirt askew, but she looked unharmed. She pointed at Sterling, bound and gagged with duct tape even as he tried to yell out, before finding her eyes in the group._

" _Now can I work alone?"_

"That was the first time I…" she cut herself off. He already knew. The thought of losing Abby had made her realize how much she really meant to her. "We can't just go back into the squad room and tell them about Svetlana, Jethro. They'll want to know why she took Abby."

He sighed, "Abby should be the one to tell them, not us."

"Rule 18 then?" she questioned.

"Have to," he replied.

_It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission_.

* * *

When Gibbs and the Director came back into the squad room, he glanced up. From the looks in their eyes, he could tell that the secret they were keeping wouldn't be secret for long.

"We have intel that supports Svetlana Chernitskaya hired four hitmen to abduct Abby," Director Shepard started, "She's under the alias Natasha Lenkov."

"Why would she take Abby?" he asked.

"Revenge." Gibbs replied.

"Abby put someone she loved away?" Ziva questioned.

"Something I did." Gibbs replied.

"Kinda leaving us in the dark, Boss," Tony said, "What happened?"

"Mission in Paris, 1999, Decker, Jen and I," Gibbs started, "he was our lookout."

"We had our targets. I was supposed to take her out but hesitated, and she got away. Gibbs took out her fiancé, Anatoly Zhukov. She's angry that he died."

"So then why wouldn't she target you, Boss?" Tony asked.

Ziva frowned, thinking, "If you killed her fiancé, Gibbs, she should have gone after you."

"Or you, Director," he added. "You and Gibbs were together then, right? Why not target you to get back at Gibbs?"

"Because she didn't want to hurt me."

"What do you mean?" Kate questioned.

Director Shepard sighed, raked a hand through her hair, "I should have said, Svetlana didn't want to only hurt me or Jethro. She wanted to hurt us both equally."

"I don't understand," he said, "Why go after Abby?"

Gibbs swore under his breath, shared a look with the Director, "All these damn questions…"

"She somehow found out about Abby...about Abby dating Jethro and I."

It made sense, why Gibbs and Director Shepard were more than worried. It really made a lot of sense. For a moment, there was silence. And then Tony started laughing.

"Okay, that's a good one, Director. You almost had me."

"I don't think she's joking, Tony." Kate replied.

"She's not." Gibbs said.

Immediately, the smile fell from his face, "Since when?"

"After I got back from Mexico."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Rule 4." the Director answered, "We didn't want it to jeopardize work."

"Clearly, there was an error somewhere. How else would she have known about Abby?" Ziva questioned.

"There's too many variables." Kate answered.

"We don't know how long she waited to make her move." It could've been months for all they knew.

"Rule 4 must have just failed then," he turned towards the senior field agent, surprised by the venom in his voice.

Tony glared at Gibbs, and Gibbs returned it with his own.

"Something you wanna say, DiNozzo?"

"I don't like that my best friend is being held somewhere by a deranged psycho looking for revenge for something you did nearly a decade ago."

"Tony…" Kate started, but he ignored her.

"I don't like how my best friend didn't tell me that she was in a relationship because of your rules."

"She had free rein to tell whoever she wanted."

"And she'd do anything you'd tell her to, right? Is that how the relationship works?"

"That's enough, Agent DiNozzo." Director Shepard's voice was low, anger brimming below the surface. "Who Abby chose to tell is her business. When we get her back you can talk to her about it."

Tony glared between them a moment more before cursing under his breath and going to the elevator.

"Tony…" He started to turn to go after him, but Ziva put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let him cool down."

He watched the elevator doors close, turning back to the others. The anger he saw in the Director's eyes was replaced with weariness he hadn't seen before, and even Gibbs looked a little low.

"Ziva, Decker is waiting in the conference room. Go get him."

"On it."

"Kate –"

"Contacting Metro for leads."

"McGee –"

"Surveillance videos from the club," he moved to his computer, "Getting them now."

* * *

He was angry at Gibbs because of his stupid rules, angry at Director Shepard for enabling those rules, hell, even angry at Abby for not telling him about the relationship.

He drove back to the crime scene, hoping to get some more information from the bartender or bouncers. Unfortunately, the bouncers weren't in yet and the bartender wasn't the same as the night Abby was taken. He stepped outside the back, trying to get his thoughts together. He couldn't solve this if he couldn't get his head on straight.

_Tony, wanna come out to Shadow Tomb with me?_  He paused, Abby's last text sticking out in his mind.  _Need to talk to you about something_. He'd been exhausted from the work week, had told her next time. Maybe next week, he'd said. What if she was going to tell him about her relationship? Hell, if he had gone out, maybe she wouldn't have been taken. Maybe he could've stopped it.

A quiet cry pulled him from his thoughts.

He saw the same grey kitten from yesterday morning, looking up at him. Abby would think it was cute. He froze, the thought clicking suddenly. That was it!

"Ok, fur-ball, you're coming with me!" He bent down, picking up the shivering creature, who purred in happiness. He made a quick stop at the pet store before heading back to HQ.

* * *

The team looked up when he emerged from the elevators, holding the kitten securely in his arms.

"Tony, why do you have a kitten?" Ziva questioned as he stepped into the squad room.

"I went to Shadow Tomb to see if I could talk with the bouncers or the bartender, but they weren't in yet. And saw this little guy. He must have distracted Abby. That's how they were able to get her. She must have had her back turned."

"And they came up behind her," McGee added, "just got the surveillance video cleaned up."

"Put it up on the plasma."

A few buttons later, they were looking at the back alley. It was lit with a couple lights, but if it wasn't for the video software, they may not have seen Abby, dressed in her dark clothing, complete with a dark coat. In the video, they watched Abby make her way out of the club. She got to the end of the street and turned suddenly; she must have felt something behind her, he reasoned. She bent down, petting the kitten that was now in his arms. And then she was being grabbed from behind. McGee stopped the tape.

Gibbs frowned, pointing, "That's our dead guy, Viggo."

"Dr. Bradford got a hit on the prints Ducky found around Viggo's neck. For Igor Zotov. Rafik Volodin's prints were found on the note." Ziva supplied.

"I have a BOLO out on both of their cars and flagged their credit cards." Kate said, "Metro has one on Viggo's car too."

"The car in the video?"

"No, sorry, Boss," McGee said, "I couldn't get the license plate. The car was out of view of the cameras. But we got a shot of Viggo grabbing Abby for confirmation."

"Good work, Tim," Gibbs then looked to him with a frown, gesturing towards the kitten, "Explain. Now."

"There's a blizzard starting outside, and Abby would kill me if I left him. I think she'd like him. You know, when we get her back."

"Really though, into the building?" the Director questioned, taking the little creature from him.

It purred up at the Director, snuggling into her arms as she picked it up.

"Well, he's a witness," He felt the head slap before it hit.

"That was for leaving during a debrief. And she's a girl."

"What can I do, Boss?"

"I want updates on the BOLO every 15 minutes. Ziva, Kate, I want you two back to the club. Addresses for the bouncers, talk to them, see what they remember. Abby usually has a few clubbing friends too. See who she was with."

"On it," he replied.

He looked outside as the snow continued to fall.  _We'll find you, Abby_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Enjoy!

_The air was frigid, but she continued through the icy woods. She’d been following Jethro but had lost him a while back. She knew she should look for him, but something was keeping her walking along this path. The wind blew wildly, the snow getting denser the further she walked, but she couldn’t stop now. It’s only when she saw drops of red in the snow that she began to worry._

_“Jethro?” she called out. What if he was hurt?_

_The droplets became larger the further she walked until she stumbled upon a body lying face-up in the snow. Her heart stopped. Not Jethro. Dark clothes, darker hair. Abby. She collapsed to her knees in a state of shock, taking the Goth’s bloody body in her arms, checks for a pulse that she knew she wouldn’t find. Glassy emerald eyes stared lifelessly into hers, blood dripping from bullet wounds that shouldn’t be there._

_The maniacal laughter seemingly came from all around her, and she heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow._

_“Too late, Jennifer,” Svetlana’s voice came from behind her, and she instinctively cradled Abby’s dead body, “You should’ve taken me out when you had the chance.”_

_Abby looked up at her then, lifeless eyes piercing her darker jade, “This is your fault. Why didn’t you save me, Jenny?”_

She woke with a start, heart racing, nearly toppling her chair as she sat up. Her office was dark except for the lamp on the corner of her desk, and she checked the clock. Barely 5 am. Since the BOLO late yesterday afternoon, there had been no updates, Metro had nothing; every time the phone rang, she was anxious; could it be the call that a body had been found? A call from Svetlana herself, making demands? A call from Abby, saying she escaped?

They were running out of time, she knew. Svetlana was biding her time, waiting for the right moment; she could kill Abby at any time, and there was nothing they could do about it.

The last thing she remembered was Decker going to check in with the LA team, Gibbs joining him in MTAC. She’d come back to her office around midnight, researching any known connection to Svetlana she could think of, starting in Russia and France.

She ran a hand through her disheveled hair, righting her attire, before she left her office, headed onto the catwalk. The uneasy feeling in her stomach, brought about by the dream, refused to go away, but she chose to ignore it. From her position on the catwalk, she looked down at the bullpen. She knew they didn’t go home last night, still burning the midnight oil when she’d returned to her office, but Jethro’s team didn’t look tired. She saw Ziva on the phone, McGee typing on the computer, Tony going over some kind of records. Kate, however, wasn’t in the bullpen, which was odd, as her desk was stacked with paperwork.

“Director Shepard,” she nearly jumped at the voice beside her, but realized it was Kate. She must have noticed her leave her office. The small fur-ball meowed at her from Kate’s arms.

“Agent Todd,” she acknowledged, reluctantly petting the kitten, relaxing as she purred contently. She observed the bullpen again, “Anything?”

A frown crossed the agent’s face, “Still nothing from Metro. Ziva’s on the phone with a contact from Mossad. McGee is trying to get a location on either Igor or Rafik’s cells but they’re still off. And Tony is going over Viggo’s credit history.”

“And Gibbs?”

“Still in MTAC. Callen in LA didn’t have anything. Gibbs knows a guy in New Orleans, was checking with him.” The question was on the tip of Kate’s tongue.

“Pride heads NOLA’s NCIS team.” She explained. “They go back. Jethro was still in the Marines when he met Dwayne.”

Pride and his team also knew Abby, but that wasn’t relevant. The LA branch did too. If Gibbs was getting Pride involved, even briefly, there was a chance he had a theory. Something with NOLA, she was sure.

It clicked in her mind then, “Agent Todd, check all inbound and outbound flights to Jefferson Parish, Louisiana from the last month. Search Svetlana’s alias.”

“You’re thinking she went to get information on Abby?”

“It makes sense. How much would she know so much about Abby by just reading her articles online?”

Kate frowned thoughtfully, “So she might have talked to some people in New Orleans?”

“It’s a guess. We don’t know how long she’s been planning this, but I don’t think she would’ve wanted her hitmen to gather intel. This is still personal for her, so I think she would’ve wanted to do this herself.”

Kate nodded, heading towards the stairs, “I’ll let you know when I find something.”

She watched as Kate placed the kitten on McGee’s lap gently before she turned away, a small smile on her lips, heading to MTAC.

* * *

The sun was peeking over the horizon, so she figured it was morning again. The bowl of soup was gone, so she figured someone must have taken it out while she slept, and she was glad. It had been on the table since the first night she’d been here. Even so, the thought of one of the goons or even Svetlana herself in this room while she slept disturbed her. Right now, though, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Hey,” she called, banging on the bedroom door, “Hey, I have to pee.” Surely her captor would let her use the bathroom, right? She’d been cooperating, “Please!”

The door opened suddenly, and she nearly fell forward. One of the men was there, as tall as the one who’d grabbed her from the club.

“Second door, right, go. Quickly.” He spoke with an accent too.

“Thank you.”

The bathroom was small, but she didn’t care. As soon as she was done, she took a look around. It _was_ small, one window, a shower. The sink’s cabinet was cracked slightly, but the water from the faucet was warm. She flushed the toilet before scrubbing her hands with the soap. She took a quick look under the sink. Nothing to help her. Great. She stepped out of the bathroom and peeked into the main area. Svetlana was seated at the table, drinking coffee or maybe tea, and the same goon was in the kitchen. She didn’t even look up.

“Oh, good, Doctor, you’re done. Come sit while Makar makes breakfast.”

She didn’t really have a choice, did she? She wondered when she’d get told the real reason she was here.

* * *

 

“I’ve got LaSalle and Percy workin’ as fast as they can, Gibbs.”

He heard the words but didn’t really take them in. The longer Abby was missing, the more on edge he got. Metro had nothing. Interviews with the bouncers and bartender yielded nothing. He knew his team was working as hard as they could. Callen and his team in LA had arrested Decker’s ex-girlfriend, but she wouldn’t cooperate. The idea that Svetlana would go to NOLA personally for information on Abby made sense. They just needed proof. If they could track her movements in NOLA, they could figure out her movements.

The sound of MTAC’s door opening had Decker turning towards it, Pride’s attention diverted as well, but he knew who it was.

“Director,” he acknowledged as she came up next to him.

He could all-but see her eye-roll, but other than that, she didn’t respond to him, “What have you got, Dwayne?”

“Not much. I’ve got LaSalle checking inbound flights from DC. Percy went down to Jefferson Parrish, seeing if any locals saw anythin’ suspicious.” He frowned again. Percy needed to be careful. The last thing they needed was Abby’s younger brother Luca finding out Abby was missing. Pride must have noticed, “Don’t you worry. She’s staying away from Luca’s neighborhood.”

“Let us know when you have an update,” Jen said. Wait, she was ending the call? He glanced over at her.

“’Course, Jenny.” Dwayne replied.

Jen signaled for the video feed to be cut, and the moment it was gone, he spoke, “Didn’t wanna end there, Jen.”

“I’ve got Kate doing the same thing LaSalle is,” she replied, heading towards the door.

He sighed, exchanged a look with Decker, and following her. Maybe Kate would have better luck. Or maybe Callen could get Decker’s ex to talk. Either way, they needed to hurry.

* * *

 

She observed her hostage over her cup of coffee, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the slow pace in which she ate, as if she wasn’t quite sure she should. It was a shame she’d eventually kill her. A brilliant mind like that shouldn’t be wasted, but there was no other way.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

Emerald eyes looked up from her plate, a mix of curiosity and something else hidden in their depths, “Sure.”

“Nine years ago, my fiancé and I were smuggling weapons from Paris to Russia. Before we met, Anatoly worked for the KGB. After we got together, I was his handler, making sure he didn’t go off the deep end; we were arms-dealers for hire, offering our services to the highest bidder. One warm evening, in Paris, we got separated, something went wrong,” she paused, the memory bringing pain and anger, “The next day, I read about his murder in the paper. He was murdered by Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It was revealed to me later that Special Agent Jennifer Shepard was supposed to murder me, but she failed.”

“And you think by kidnapping me you’ll somehow get your revenge?”

“I know I will. They took him from me, so I’m going to take you from them.” She could feel Anatoly’s presence, and despite being gone for so long, she knew he approved.

“They’ll find me.”

“You don’t get it yet, do you? They’ll never figure it out. It’s part of the past they chose to forget.”

“They’ll figure it out.”

“Oh?” she questioned, tilting her head, “And how do you know that?”

“Because they’ll never stop searching for me.” The unwavering faith she had in her two lovers was infuriating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. Enjoy!  
> Trigger Warning for mentions of violence and blood.

The flight records seemed to go on forever. She pored over them methodically; if she missed anything, it could mean the difference between Abby living or dying. The thought of being the reason one of her best friends died didn’t sit well on her conscious. It took her a couple hours but there it was, in plain sight: Natasha Lenkov, inbound flight 199 to NOLA from DC, November 10th, outbound flight 171 from NOLA to DC, November 14th.  
Gibbs had returned to his desk not long ago, and she and the others could tell that the news he got from Pride wasn’t what he needed to hear.  
  
“Gibbs, got something,” She pulled the files up on the plasma, zoomed in on the records, “We have Svetlana entering and leaving NOLA about a month ago.”  
  
“Good job, Kate. Doesn’t mean she went up to Parrish though.”  
  
“I got that, Boss,” McGee pipped up from his desk, “LaSalle just emailed me some video files from a couple places in Jefferson Parrish. Looks like Svetlana didn’t cover her tracks well.”  
  
_Or she wanted to be seen_. She immediately dismissed the thought. _Focus on the positive_. They had definitive proof that Svetlana ordered the kidnapping, and this was proof she knew exactly who she was going after.  
  
The sudden ringing of Gibbs’ desk phone startled her, her eyes darting to it. He answered it by the second ring, and she waited on baited breath. The air in the room was suddenly tense. This could be it. The call. He didn’t say anything besides a curt _thank you_ before he was tossing the car keys to Ziva.  
  
“BOLO came in for Igor’s car. Ziver, you drive. Let’s go.”  
  
They were heading to the elevator immediately, and the single thought ran through her mind: _We’ll get you, Abbs._

* * *

 

Svetlana seemed worried, anxious, continuously checking her watch. Abby had seen too many crime scene photos where killers had de-escalated to not know the signs. She wasn’t sure if she should use it to her advantage or not. How many of those photos had she seen, where the victim tried to get the upper hand when the killer was distracted only for it to backfire? She looked over at Makar, but he wasn’t paying attention, his focus on the blizzard outside. It had started sometime last night, and under normal circumstances, she would’ve enjoyed it. But this wasn’t normal circumstances.  
  
Svetlana cursed under her breath, muttering something in Russian that she couldn’t understand.   
  
“Can I – ” she hesitated, suddenly unsure. If she left the room, went back to her prison, she’d have no way of knowing what was happening. But if she stayed here with a ticking-time-bomb and her bodyguard, she’d potentially be in the line of fire should something happen. Neither her captor nor goon number 4 made any effort to hide the guns their had.  
  
“What do you need, Doctor?” Svetlana sounded more put together, as if the sudden war with herself was over.  
  
“Could I have another Caf-Pow, please?” From the corner of her eye, she saw Svetlana nod. Makar set the bottle in front of her without a word, going back to look outside. “Thank you.”  
  
“When Igor and Rafik return, we’ll be leaving.” Svetlana said, and she wasn’t sure who the woman was talking to, as she looked at neither her nor Makar, “It’s for the best. To cover our tracks, Anatoly, why else?” Nothing was better than a psychopath forgetting reality. Was this entire thing her delusion, believing that her dead-fiancé was talking to her, encouraging her to do all this?  
  
_Jenny? Gibbs? I need you to find me soon. I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.  
_

* * *

  
She observed Igor from behind the glass. Kate and Tony sat on the other side, staring at the man, waiting for him to speak. They had evidence that Igor had killed Viggo, concrete evidence, they just needed him to tell them where Abby was. She knew McGee and Ziva had Rafik in the other interrogation room, and Jethro was watching. The evidence that put Rafik at Shadow Tomb nearly 100% proved he was there at Abby’s abduction; if he tried to deny it, his prints were on the note lifted from Abby’s car.  
  
Hetty had called from LA, confirming the lead they had on Svetlana. Decker had found evidence linking the Rafik, Igor, Viggo and a fourth man, Makar Lavrentiev, to Svetlana, and there was evidence Rafik had also been in contact with Sasha, Decker’s ex.  
  
All the pieces were slowly falling into place. Four men hired by Svetlana, two going after Decker via his former girlfriend, before the four kidnapped Abby. This Makar person would end up being the getaway driver, and their evidence, Igor’s car, was in the evidence garage. She was sure Makar’s prints would be lifted off the steering wheel. She focused back on the interrogation as Kate started talking.

* * *

 

The silence was unnerving him, just slightly. No matter what question Ziva or McGee asked, Rafik was silent. They didn’t have time for his games. Abby was still out there, and he had no way of knowing whether she was alive or dead. No, _no_ , he would feel it if she was gone. She talked all the time about their psychic link, and while he didn’t believe in that, he believed his gut. And his gut was telling him that she was still alive.

“I’ll talk to him, not to either of you.” Rafik said suddenly, interrupting McGee.

“You’ll talk to who?” Ziva questioned.

He smirked, looking at the mirror; even though Rafik couldn’t see him, he knew he was there, “I want to talk to Agent Gibbs.”

_Damn it_. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to Rafik. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have cared about the rules, _bend the line, don’t break it_ , coming to mind, but this was Abby. He had to think of her.

“Come on, Agent Gibbs. Do you want your girl or not?”

He cursed under this breath. This was a mistake. But if he could get Rafik to call Svetlana, McGee could track the signal and get a location. This could be their only shot.

He entered the interrogation room, nudging McGee out with a look. He sat beside Ziva, looking at the man who helped carry out Abby’s abduction. Rafik smirked, sitting up in his chair.

“Agent Gibbs, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Tell me where Abby is.”

“Don’t you want to know –”

“No,” he interjected, “No, I don’t. I want to know where Abby is.”

“That’s not how this is going to work.”

“We have evidence that will put you and your partners away for years,” Ziva said from beside him.

“You can’t prove anything.”

“You want a deal?” he questioned, “All I care about is taking Svetlana down. You tell me where she is, and I’ll talk to the DA.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You didn’t kill anyone, Rafik. You left a message.” He could see the wheels turning in the man’s head. “Whatever Svetlana promised you, it was all for show.”

“I don’t believe you.” He didn’t sound convinced. _Good_.

“What happened?”

“She said to kidnap the girl, that it would hurt you and another woman. Knew a lot about the three of you. We went to the club where she was.”

“And then you left the note.”

“Makar was driving. Igor helped me get the girl in the car, noticed Viggo texting. They fought. Igor killed him. And then I heard him fire his gun. We drove for a while, a few hours. Makar’s her bodyguard, knew where to go.”

“Svetlana’s?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t leave her side except for then.”

“Can you call him? Abby needs help, Rafik. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“I…”

“Please.” It wasn’t often that he asked for anything, let alone say _please_ , but this was different. This was Abby.

Rafik looked between them before nodding. Ziva slid her phone over towards him. 

He waited on baited breath as Rafik dialed. His phone vibrated with an incoming text; glancing at it, he realized it was from McGee.

_When he answers, I can get the location. Two minutes._

“Makar, it’s me.” Rafik said in Russian. “No, we’ll be there soon.”

McGee again, _Almost there_.

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

_I have a location._

He signaled to Rafik, but a confused look overcame the man’s face, “Makar? Makar, are you there?” He paled slightly before he was handing the phone over to him. This wasn’t good.

* * *

 

She didn’t pay much attention to the phone call Makar received. It wasn’t odd that he would take a call from Rafik or Igor. But the questions were odd. _Where are you_ and _How long_. Were they staging a coup against her? Was this what was making them so late? Was it possible that they’d been captured? Yes, yes that had to be it.

Now, everything was unraveling. If they had gotten to Rafik and Igor, they would get to Makar. He was sure to mess up, just as they had. Just like Viggo had.

She could hear Anatoly’s voice, quiet against her ear, _Take him out, Svetlana. Do it._

Makar stood with his back to her, still looking out the window.  She pulled out her gun, fired off two rounds. One pierced his back, the other, his neck. He fell forward before hitting the ground, gasping for air that wouldn’t come, the phone clattering to the floor.  
  
Her hostage shot up from the table, rushing over to him; he was already gone, nothing could be done, and she smirked as she walked over to her, leveling the gun with her head.   
  
_Brilliant. Beautiful. Liability. Take her out too.  
  
_ She couldn’t. Not yet. She still needed her. She could make out muffled words from the phone and picked it up.  
  
“Makar? Are you there?” Rafik was asking.  
  
“Put him on. Oshimaida.”   
  
She heard the shuffling as the phone changed hands.  
  
“Da?” Agent Gibbs certainly sounded older.  
  
“I’ve put two bullets into my personal bodyguard. Do not think I won’t do the same to your precious scientist.” This she said in fast Russian, so that her hostage wouldn’t be able to understand.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“I want you and Jennifer to suffer, just like I did.”  
  
“You’re a dead woman walking, Svetlana.”  
  
She glanced over at her hostage. Tears streamed down Abby’s face, but she wasn’t moving, shock setting in. _Good_.  
“So is the girl.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Don’t forget to review please


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m thinking the epilogue is gonna be next, just don’t know when I’m going to get it done. Enjoy the chapter!

 

Igor hadn’t given them anything, and admittedly, there was a part of her that knew he wouldn’t. Whatever hold Svetlana had on him was too deep; the only thing she could hope for was McGee and Ziva getting somewhere with Rafik. While Kate was escorting Igor downstairs to be picked up by Metro, she sent DiNozzo back to the squad room. Either Pride or Hetty had to have some kind of information on their end. And if not, they had to get Rafik to crack; otherwise, they had nothing.

She entered the observation room expecting to see Jethro standing at the window, but instead McGee had some sort of program pulled up on the lone computer; he had his back turned, focused on the screen, but registered the door opening; he must have assumed it was either Kate or Tony because he didn’t turn, concentrating on whatever task he had.

_So, where was Jethro_? She cursed under her breath, glancing into the interrogation room, already knowing she wouldn’t like what she would see. Jethro and Ziva sat on one side of the table, Rafik on the other. _Damn it_ , she gave him instructions to not interrogate him. If Rafik said something incriminating, it would get thrown out.

“She said to kidnap the girl, that it would hurt you and another woman,” Rafik was saying, “Knew a lot about the three of you. We went to the club where she was.”

“And then you left the note.” Jethro stated.

“Makar was driving. Igor helped me get the girl in the car, noticed Viggo texting. They fought. Igor killed him. And then I heard him fire his gun. We drove for a while, a few hours. Makar’s her bodyguard, knew where to go.”

“Svetlana’s?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t leave her side except for then.”

“Can you call him? Abby needs help, Rafik. She doesn’t deserve this.” _God, no, no she didn’t. She was innocent in all of this_.

“I…”

“Please.” She could hear the weariness in his voice, but it was masked by the order, his voice gentler than any order he normally gave, awareness of the situation bleeding into his voice. God, this would kill him if they didn’t make it in time.

Rafik nodded; Ziva handed over her phone, and Rafik began to dial; McGee began to type. It clicked then. They’d get a location. She walked closer to the computer screen. But then Svetlana would know they’d be on to her. She barely paid attention to the conversation, watching the screen for a location to pop up, observing McGee text Jethro with updates.

_Come on, come on_.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Rafik was saying.

McGee sent out a quick text again as the location pinged.

_Good work, McGee_. The address memorized, she headed out the door. She started this mess. She had to be the one to finish it.

* * *

 

He had two agents escort Rafik to Metro station, before heading into the squad room, Ziva and McGee hot on his trail. He found Tony on the phone, Kate heading down from the catwalk.

“DiNozzo, Kate, gear up, we have a lead. Where’s the Director?”

“Not in her office,” Kate answered, heading down the stairs, “Cynthia said she had an errand to run.”

Jenny running an errand at a time like this? Didn’t make sense.

Tony hung up the phone, “Decker’s gone too. Pride said he was in MTAC with him and he disconnected, said he had to go.”

Dread settled in his gut. _Damn it_.

He grabbed his gun and badge from his desk, heading to the stairs, “Let’s go. McGee get me the location on the GPS thing.”

They were following him immediately, and he pulled out his phone as he fast-walked down the stairs, dialing Jen. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. He was going to hang up, but the message was different.

_I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Jethro. I started this, and I’m going to fix it. I have Decker as backup. I’ll get Abby back even if it kills me. I love –_

It cut off before she finished, the monotone voice telling him she was not available and to leave a message. _Damn it_. Ziva, Kate and Tony got in the back, while McGee got in the passenger’s seat, programing the GPS. He started the engine, looking at the new device. Approximate time was an hour and a half. Jen had at least a 10-minute head-start, longer based on how she would be driving. In the hour in a half it would take to get to Svetlana’s hideout, she would be gone. He shot out of the parking garage, a dangerous glint in his eyes. They didn’t have time for speed limits today, this blizzard outside be damned. Not when Jen was on a suicide mission and Abby was still in danger. By the time he was out of D.C. corporation limits, the car was pushing 100.

* * *

 

She’d never seen a dead body up-close like this before.  Sure, at work she’d been down in Autopsy after Ducky had finished his examination, and she’d seen crime scene photos, but this was on an entirely different scale. She stared at Makar’s lifeless body, numb, tears slipping from her eyes. How could Svetlana do that? He was just talking on the phone, and now he was gone.

“Get up, Doctor.” Svetlana ordered, and if she thought the blonde had sounded unhinged before, that was nothing compared to now. Had she been able to use her legs, she would’ve stood. As it was, she was rooted to the spot. She recognized the signs of being in shock, but she couldn’t pull herself from the spell. Svetlana cursed under her breath and then she was being yanked up by her shirt, standing on shaky legs. “I said get up.” _Why did she need to get up?_ She wasn’t expecting the slap across the face, sending her stumbling backwards into the dining chairs, crashing back down. She blinked up at her numbly, clutching her cheek. Why was it stinging? “It’s time to go now, Doctor.”

_Go_? No, she didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t leave Makar out here alone. He had a family, she was sure of it. He deserved a proper burial, not to be rotting in a place like this.

Svetlana walked up to her then, brandishing the gun in her face, “Are you paying attention? Are you listening to me at all?” She recognized the weapon, blinking as she slowly started to focus on the situation at hand. Svetlana had shot Makar for no reason. What would she do to her if she didn’t listen? She nodded, eyes focused on the weapon. Svetlana smiled cruelly, “Good. Now it’s time to go.”

“I won’t go with you,” She sounded a lot braver than she felt.

Svetlana’s smile dropped, and she pushed the gun closer, the cool metal pressing against her head, “I would re-think that statement if I were you. I would hate to have that brilliant mind splattered all over the floor.”

“If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already done it,” _Oh, God, shut up, Abby_ , she silently scolded herself. But there was a part of her that wasn’t afraid. Even with a gun to her head, she knew she just had to stall. She could feel it. “It’s not safe to drive. You want to risk your life making some get away, go ahead. But I won’t leave. Not with you.”

“You’d like to stay here? Is that what you’re saying?” She didn’t like the way Svetlana was speaking, the way she was waving the gun around.

“It’s not safe to drive in this,” she backtracked.

“Damn it, Anatoly, I know what I’m doing!” Svetlana yelled, turning to her right where she must have been hallucinating her dead-fiancé, pulling the gun back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A tall man was lurking around outside. She froze. Svetlana she could handle. One of the goons being back, she couldn’t. _What do I do_?

* * *

 

Too many thoughts were racing through his head as he drove, thoughts of Abby and Jenny, of the incident in Paris 9 years ago. Was it a stroke of luck that Svetlana had chosen to stay in Virginia? It was possible, but he suspected that she was wanting to leave soon. She already had Makar’s death under her belt, he doubted she wanted another. She would want to move quickly, probably had wanted to wait until Rafik and Igor returned before heading out. Igor’s car was in the evidence garage, but that didn’t mean one of the men’s other cars weren’t at the hideout. He was sure if they weren’t, Svetlana had her own car under her alias.

The blizzard had finally let up, much to the relief of his team, but he was still at least 10 minutes out from Shenandoah Park. He couldn’t risk going any faster on these back roads. He just prayed either he or Jen got there in time. If they were too late…

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, staring at the road ahead. No, they wouldn’t be.

* * *

 

Jen sent Decker around the back, while she secured the front; one of the perks of being Director was being able to give Decker a temporary reinstatement. The lone car beside the cabin was covered in snow, but she was sure it would run. Briefly she debated on slashing the tires but decided against it. Svetlana wasn’t going to escape this time. She could see inside the cabin through one of the windows but barely. She could make out a body on the floor and for a moment, her heart seized with fear, before she caught sight of Abby, back to her, wearily watching Svetlana, who appeared to be yelling at no one. _Great, she turned into a psychopath_. But then that meant the fourth kidnapper was dead. Dread settled in her stomach when she realized that Abby could have possibly witnessed it.

Her phone chimed from a message from Decker, confirming her suspicions, _One dead, suspect hallucinating, hostage in line of fire_. She cursed silently. Svetlana seemed distracted so if both she and Decker came in through the front, they might have an advantage. For the briefest of seconds, she almost regretted leaving Jethro in the dark, with nothing but a voicemail recording. But then she thought of Rule 45, and she knew that it was the right decision. She took a breath, hoping the chilly air would help, but it only made her nervousness worse. She didn’t like the way the deck was stacked.

She texted back, _Come around front._ She took another breath, feeling the weight of the gun in her hand for the first time since pulling it out. Decker joined her, his own weapon pointed at the ground.

“Now what, Director?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

She nearly rolled her eyes, her voice hushed, “She’s still distracted. Need to move. Surprise her. Have to take her out before she hurts Abby.” She glanced through the window again to find Svetlana still raving. “Go now.”

Decker kicked the door open, and she immediately followed him, “Federal agents!”

* * *

 

God, Anatoly was being unreasonable. First, he wanted Dr. Sciuto alive and then he wanted her dead, switching back and forth over and over. She wanted him to shut up, so she could concentrate. Makar was dead, Viggo was dead, Rafik and Igor had betrayed her. It was only a matter of time until she was caught. She needed to leave while she could.

_Kill her. She’s useless now_.

“I need her alive, Anatoly.”

If she closed her eyes, she could feel the way he touched her cheek, stroking softly.

_It would hurt them more if she was dead_.

“But then my bargaining chip goes out the window.”

_Look at her_. She glanced over at bright-green eyes, still so full of hope despite the situation. _She’d look so much prettier with a bullet in her head_.

She started to raise the gun and then lowered it, indecisive.

“I need her alive,” she repeated.

_Kill her, Svetlana. Just do it_.

“Damn it, Anatoly! I can’t!” she shouted back, lowering the weapon again.

And then the front door burst open.

“Federal agents!”

She swiveled to the door, gun raised. Special Agent Decker entered first, his gun trained on her, Jennifer entering behind him, her gun on her as well. It felt like time was slowed as she met the redhead’s eyes. Now this, _this_ was what she was waiting for.

* * *

 

Svetlana was getting more and more erratic as the minutes went by. She wanted to escape, to get as far away from her as possible because she was de-escalating fast. As she talked to herself, debating whether or not to kill her, she saw the gun shift in her hand a few times. This wasn’t good.

“Damn it, Anatoly, I can’t!”

In the eerie silence that followed, she was sure she heard footsteps but dismissed the notion. She was just hearing things. Until the door flew open and she heard a male voice call out the words she’d been longing to hear.

“Federal agents!”

Instinctively, she backed further away from her captor, but also further into the interior of the cabin, not recognizing the man. For all the she knew, this could be a ruse by Svetlana. But she found herself relaxing instantly as Jen was quick to follow the man through the door.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise.” Svetlana said with a smirk.

“It’s over, Svetlana.” The man retorted, his gun trained on her.

“Is it now?” her captor questioned, raising her gun, pointing it back towards the man, “Let’s see who’s a faster shot, shall we?”

“I’ll be me,” the man answered, and she noticed that Jen was slowly inching her way closer to her, gun pointed slightly at the ground, prepared to point it up at a moment’s notice.

“What do you think, Jennifer?” The cold, blue eyes switched between her and Jen, ignoring the man now, “Don’t you think I would be a faster shot with the way you hesitated last time?”

“That won’t happen this time.” Jen answered, raising her gun.

The blonde had a death wish, she was sure of it. Maybe she’d finally cracked because she turned the gun on her again. In the blink of an eye, she’d fired off two shots.

Jen had to have anticipated the gunfire because she shoved her out of the way, landing awkwardly on her side in front of her; more gunfire met her ears as the man fired off two shots back at her captor. She heard Svetlana’s gasp as the man’s bullets hit, one biting into her shoulder, making her drop the gun, and then other piercing her leg, dropping her to the floor.

The man made his way over to her, kicking her gun away and handcuffing her, dragging her to her feet, “I’ll call Gibbs.”

As he escorted her outside, she turned to Jen, smiling softly. And then she immediately frowned, noticing blood dripping down Jen’s arm.

“Jenny?”

“It’s a graze.” She replied with a pained smile. “I’m okay, Abbs. Are you alright?”

“It’s not just a graze,” she answered her, ignoring her question as she reached out, gingerly touching the wound; Jen winced despite herself, “See? You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Jen insisted.

“Let me see.”

“Abby.”

“No – ”

“Abby,” Jen interrupted again, but she ignored her.

“ – you took a bullet – ”

“Abby.”

“ – that was so stupid. She could’ve been a better shot! You could’ve – ”

Jen cut her off with a kiss, pulling her closer with her free arm, and she immediately melted into her, losing her train of thought. When Jen pulled back, she smirked, her dark eyes glinting, “I told you I would do anything for you, Abby. Even take a bullet.”

* * *

 

He pulled up just as Decker was leading Svetlana to the other car. She was handcuffed, an angry look coming over her features as she gazed at him. He left Tony and the others as he made his way into the cabin, unsure of what he’d find.

He saw the dead body first, over by the window; and then he saw Jenny on the floor, and it looked like she was bleeding, but he couldn’t be too sure. Abby was fawning over her, her eyes lit with worry. And that was just like Abby, worrying about others before herself. Jen noticed him first, and then Abby followed her gaze, her eyes lighting up when she saw him.

“Hi, Gibbs.”

Relief washed through him as he made his way over to them. She was okay. Maybe hungry and a bit dirty but she was okay.

“That’s all I get?” he questioned with a teasing note.

“Well, Jen did do the daring rescue,” she answered, standing up to meet him.

“And left me back at HQ,” he replied, but didn’t saying else. That was an issue to discuss later. For now, he was content to pull her closer, and she melted into his arms, resting her head on her chest, “You okay, Abbs?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded into him and he hugged her tighter, feeling her shake as tears sprung to her eyes, her voice cracking as she continued, “Knew you’d find me.”

“Mhmm,” he echoed, and when he pulled back to kiss her, he wiped away the few tears that fell. “You’re safe now.”

“I take it Ducky and Metro are on the way?”

“Before we left. Had Kate and Ziva call them with the coordinates. They’ll be here soon.”

Abby looked over at Makar’s dead body, and as she stepped away from them, she wobbled on her feet. They reached out their hands to steady her.

“Woah there,” he muttered.

“Careful,” Jen added.

She opened her mouth to protest, but then Ducky’s voice could be heard coming from outside, accompanied by Detective Garrison from Metro. He headed outside to greet them, feeling more relaxed than he did since this whole ordeal started.

* * *

 

Ducky entered the cabin with Jimmy, and she smiled when she saw them.

“Abigail,” he said, making his way over to them. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Ducky,” And that was a lie, she was exhausted, but she would worry about herself after, “Ducky, Jenny got shot.”

Jenny rolled her eyes, holding out her injured arm when prompted, “It’s just a scratch.”

“Mr. Palmer, please take Mr. Lavrentiev to the truck.” She watched as Jimmy loaded Makar’s body on the gurney, relieved. When she got home, she could help him get back to his family.

Jenny’s hissing pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to find Ducky wiping antiseptic on her wound. It was a small bullet wound, a through-and-through, but still…

She didn’t realize she was squeezing Jen’s hand until Jen squeezed back, drawing her attention.

“Anything,” Jen said, repeating her statement from earlier.

“I’ll have to check the gauze tonight to see how it’s healing, but you should be good to go.” Ducky said as he began to put his medical equipment away.

As Gibbs re-entered the room with a detective, Jenny started leading her out the door, placing her jacket around her shoulders to brave the cold weather before helping her walk.

“How far away from DC are we?” she questioned as they stepped outside on the porch; she took in the chilly air hitting her face, having not had fresh air in nearly three days. “And where are –”

She was cut off again, this time by Tony pulling her into a fierce hug, as he and the rest of the team met them on the porch. But this hug from Tony was different than normal, and it made her smile brighter. It wasn’t just that Tony was relieved; she suspected he was also feeling guilty for letting her go alone, even if she was meeting up with friends at the club. When he finally pulled away, she was hugged by Kate, Ziva and then Timmy.

“No more disappearance acts, okay, Abbs?” Tony said, “I’ve never wanted to be headslapped so much.”

As if summoned, Gibbs came through the door, landing a head slap to Tony’s head, making him wince, “Better?”

“Thank you, Boss.”

“Metro is taking over the scene,” he said as he took off his jacket, placing it around Jen with an eye-roll, “Decker is escorting Svetlana to Metro.”

“I will go with him.” Ziva volunteered.

“I can stay with Ducky and Jimmy,” Kate said.

“There’s probably a lot of evidence to process, I can help them bag and tag.” McGee added.

“And I’m sure they need pictures taken too.” Tony said.

“Wait, guys, you don’t have to –” she started.

“Abbs, you just went through two and a half days of hell,” Tony started, “You deserve to have some alone time with your partners.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t forget to review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also contains the epilogue

It wasn’t until they were driving away from the cabin that she registered Tony’s words. She wanted to question how he knew, but she was too exhausted to do much talking. She was relieved when Jen got in the backseat with her; she stretched out as best she could, content to rest her head on the redhead’s lap. It wasn’t long before she fell into a dreamless sleep.

It wasn’t until later that she wished they would’ve stayed that way.

* * *

 

Sometimes, shock hit and passed quickly. Other times, it came in waves. For Abby, it didn’t feel like it left at all, the one constant in her life right now. Being forced off work to recuperate wasn’t ideal but it felt like nothing compared to the way her mind betrayed her. For the first few nights, she would lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling, listening to Shadow, the kitten, pad around her apartment.

She’d grown too accustomed to her random sleep schedule while being held captive to sleep at night. There were a few times she would doze for a couple of hours but never longer than that at one time. Deep sleep never came.

During the day, she attempted to do some things around her apartment but had no energy. Daily visits from the team didn’t help much; it cheered her up, sure, but she was too much of a private person to start spilling her secrets, even though she knew they wouldn’t judge her. The offers out were a nice gesture, Tony even agreeing to be the DD, but the thought of going out brought memories of her abduction, and she would politely decline.

When Ducky visited under the guise of checking in on her, she knew it was really to assess her. Okay, he _was_ checking up on her, bringing her food and telling stories, but she could see the way his eyes would crinkle with worry when she barely touched her lunch.

Gibbs came over daily after work, bringing her Caf-Pow, making them dinner, attempting to get her sleeping more, staying over to make sure she did. If only she could sleep for more than a couple hours at a time.

Jenny rarely visited. There were phone calls, sure, Jen called when she could, but it wasn’t the same.

She understood, really she did. Jen was the Director; she couldn’t do house calls like Gibbs could. She speculated that the redhead was also trying to give her space, trying to not be overbearing. Maybe Jen felt guilty, like Tony did. Maybe she was distancing herself on purpose. She hoped that wasn’t true, but with the way Jen was acting, it probably was.

She loved Gibbs, but she needed Jen too. Every time Jen would ask if she needed anything, she couldn’t bring herself to voice her desire to see her, hesitating.  And that wasn’t like her. She knew Jen loved her, so why was she so afraid she would be rejected? God, she wished that Jen would just visit after work, just once. How selfish was that?

* * *

 

***Five days later***

He woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. Abby shifted in his arms, and he tightened his hold, wishing his demons would leave him be. Nearly every night when he stayed over the same nightmare woke him, images of Abby dead in the cabin playing through his mind. He’d thought – hoped – that once she was safe, they would stop, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Abby muttered something as she curled into him, and he sighed softly, pulling the blankets around her more snuggly. It was early, far too early to be awake, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. His thoughts turned to Jen and how she was handling this entire situation. Svetlana’s trial would be starting soon, and she was focusing on that on top of her Directorial duties, but it didn’t sit right with him that she wouldn’t see Abby. She’d been the one to rescue Abby, to suggest Abby take time off work to cooperate. Despite Abby’s protesting, it had been Jen that had gotten her to relent. And it was clear that Abby needed Jenny too. While he knew Abby loved him, he knew that she loved Jen too and that Jen’s absence was affecting her. And he knew he had to do something.

* * *

 

The nightmares didn’t come until later. After the first few days of barely sleeping, on top of Metro getting her statement, her body couldn’t keep up anymore and she sleeps, deeply for the first time in nearly a week. She dreamt of nothing for the first couple of nights, but her mind had a lot to process, almost too much. It came in shapes and figures first, and then she was thrust back into her nightmare, unable to get Svetlana’s voice out of her thoughts. She woke over and over with the woman’s laugh still bouncing in her head.

Tonight was worse. Svetlana’s laugh in her head was bad enough, causing her heart to pound wildly in her chest, her body on high alert, but she looked for phantoms in the dark even though she knew she wouldn’t find any. Gibbs wasn’t able to stay the night, so she couldn’t rely on him for comfort. She couldn’t fault him for not staying, especially when the case he was working on had him back at the office a few hours after he arrived. The rational part of her mind that told her it was just a dream objects to her solution, but the whisky in her cabinet went down smooth; it may not have been bourbon, but it helped. She was on her second tumbler when she heard a knock at her door. From her kitchen counter, she froze, staring at her front door with a mix of terror and confusion. It was far too early for her to be getting visitors; thoughts of Svetlana escaping and finding her passed through her mind, but she dismissed them. There was another knock, followed by a muffled curse. She made her way over to the door, looking through the peephole.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, a smile finding its way onto her lips at the sight of Jen in the hallway.

* * *

 

To be honest, she wasn’t sure whether it was Jethro’s constant probing or her own guilt that led her to Abby’s door after nearly five days of avoiding her. Probably a combination of both. It wasn’t like her to avoid Abby; she knew that whatever inner turmoil she was facing, Abby was dealing with worse. She knew it from the phone calls, the way Abby would hesitate. Hell, she knew it from the tone Ducky would use when discussing Abby with her and Jethro. More importantly, she knew she couldn’t just sit back and hope the situation would resolve itself when she was becoming part of the problem. With the trial date drawing closer, she knew she had to do something. Which is how she found herself at Abby’s door at a quarter til 2.

She heard muffled shuffling from inside the door and felt a chill dance along her spine. What the hell was she supposed to say after straight-up pushing away one of her partners? _Sorry, I’m shit at this_? She was used to knowing what to say, but in this moment, she was lost.

The door opened then, and she caught sight of Abby, huddled in a hoodie she vaguely recognized, and the only thing that came out was a weak, “Hi.”

Honestly, she was expecting the door to be shut in her face. The tears in Abby’s eyes surprised her but only barely. Abby launching herself into her arms didn’t. She didn’t want to let her go, wrapping her arms tight around Abby’s back. At work, she had to maintain a professional distance, but here, in private, she could relish in her girlfriend’s hugs.

She was normally a few inches shorter than Abby, but she was wearing her heels and Abby was barefoot, so for once, they were the same height. It was a nice feeling.

She barely made out the muffled words against her neck, “You’re not gonna disappear, right?”

“I’m here,” she reassured, “I promise.”

“You wanna come in?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed and felt the loss immediately as Abby pulled out of the hug, but the scientist immediately linked their fingers together as she pulled her into the apartment.

She noticed the open whisky bottle on the counter, the half-empty tumbler beside it.

“Bad dream,” Abby said softly, following her gaze. Her heart ached at the words.

“I shouldn’t have been avoiding you, Abbs,” she said as she turned to face her, releasing her hand.

“I get it,” Abby replied with a small smile, “You’ve been…”

She shushed her with a finger to her lips, “Abby, I shouldn’t have been avoiding you. I was wrong. I should’ve been making time for you. You deserve more than that from me.”

“Jenny,” Abby tried again.

“I’m not done apologizing yet.”

“I get that, but you have work in the morning and…”

“Let me finish, Abby, please.” When Abby nodded, she took a breath before continuing, “You being abducted was all my fault. If I had taken the shot when I was supposed to in Paris, none of this would’ve happened. And I’m sorry for that,” she paused again, getting her thoughts together, “There is nothing that’s more important to me than you and Jethro. I know that my title comes with more responsibilities, but I should’ve visited you over these last five days and I didn’t. I relied on other people to do the job I should’ve been doing: checking in on my girlfriend. So, I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better from now on.” Abby’s smile grew with each sentence, “Okay, go ahead,” she relented.

“I forgive you. Now can we go to bed? You have work in the morning.”

She chuckled, nodding. When Abby launched herself back in her arms, this time for a kiss, she welcomed it, letting out a low moan of appreciation before tasting the whisky on her breath.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, “Mmm, Abby, how much have you had to drink?”

“Barely a tumbler,” comes the muffled reply, as the Goth attempted to pull her back into the kiss.

She relented, giving her one last kiss before pulling back, letting the scientist guide her to the bedroom.

She changed into a pair of sweats and an old band T-shirt of Abby’s before heading back to the kitchen to lockup for the night. She put the cap on the whisky and finished the small amount in the tumbler before heading back to the bedroom. Abby was almost asleep, dressed in a pair of skull-and-cross-bone pajamas, the blankets secure around her, and she smiled as she slid into the bed beside her; Abby snuggled into her, and she gently stroked her back, relaxing for the first time since rescuing the angel next to her. She fell asleep to the sound of the Goth’s relaxed breathing.

0600 would come early, but for once she wasn’t worried about meetings or the upcoming trial. Abby was in her arms. That was all that mattered.

* * *

 

The blaring alarm woke Abby at 0600. She blinked sleepily, burrowing deeper into the blankets. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee had her confused because Jen was currently sitting up in bed, silencing the alarm.

“Coffee?” Jen questioned, her voice lit with confusion.

She couldn’t remember falling asleep, so she doubted that she somehow made it.

“You two act like I don’t do anything,” Gibbs’ voice came from the doorway, and she looked up at him with a sleepy smile, sitting up in bed.

He entered the room with two mugs of coffee, handing one to each of them.

“Coffee in bed? What did you do?” Jen joked.

She smiled at the jab, before turning her attention to Gibbs, only to find a troubled look in his eyes.

“What happened?” She questioned before Jen could ask, and she was already afraid of the answer.

“Svetlana’s dead.”

* * *

 

Despite Abby needing to rest, she accompanied her and Jethro to Metro’s jailhouse, where Svetlana had been placed prior to the trial. Her body had been found that morning and the surveillance tapes of the night before showed her talking to herself.

“To Anatoly,” Abby corrected softly, “That’s who she was talking to at the cabin.” She hated that Abby knew that.

Standing in the cramped security office, she wanted nothing else than to look away. Svetlana killed herself, using the bedsheets as a noose. It was a classic maneuver she’d seen in too many crime scene photos. It was sad, really, the way she gave in to her psychosis. Metro was going to perform an autopsy and Ducky was going to assist, but there wouldn’t be a trial now, not with Svetlana dead. Igor and Rafik would probably get a plea bargain since they had no one to flip on. She was almost glad. Abby didn’t need to go through the stress of a trial. Not right now. And she knew Abby wanted to help find one of Makar’s relatives to send him home, but she hoped that maybe she would rest a bit more first. As they left the jailhouse, she exchanged a look with Jethro. He had to be the one to get through to her on that. She just hoped Abby would listen.

* * *

 

***Epilogue, 2 months later***

The sound of The Newlydeads filled the lab, and she lost herself in her work. In the seven weeks since she’d been back, she had thrown herself headfirst into her work, choosing to forget that her abduction happened at all. Well, as much as she could anyway. Makar’s sister had sent her a thank you letter with a picture of the two siblings when they were younger. She kept the photo in her lab, by her desk as a reminder that evil didn’t always win. She was happy that he was buried beside his parents. He deserved that much, despite the role he played in her abduction. Igor was in prison, following his conviction of Viggo’s murder. Rafik was on probation, a deal for flipping on Igor. So many lives were ruined and for what? One woman’s desire for vengeance. It was heartbreaking.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Today was a bad day to be thinking about heartbreak. The flower deliveries this morning had confirmed that. Deliveries, as in two. Because Gibbs and Jen loved to spoil her, especially on Valentine’s Day. It was refreshing to know they loved her as much as she loved them. And the team seemed to be okay with them dating, which was good. Originally, she had wanted to tell Tony first but then the Svetlana situation happened, and Gibbs and Jenny ended up telling him and the team first. But she understood that. Which is why she had formally introduced the team to her partners not long after she’d started back at work. She hadn’t been this content in what felt like years.

So much had changed, but that was okay. Change wasn’t always bad.

“Whaddaya got, Abbs?” Gibbs’ voice came from behind her as he entered the lab.

“A lot of flowers,” she replied, taking the Caf-Pow from him, the _I love you_ heart making her smile, “The serial number on the gun has it registered to a Samuel Dirk,” she scribbled out the address, “Lives two miles from the crime scene.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, “Good work, Abbs.”

“Dinner at your place, right?” she questioned as he started walking out of the lab.

“2100 hours,” he confirmed, “don’t be late.”

She would, in fact, be late, but so was Jen; it turned into a horrible idea to carpool to his house, with Jen wearing that dress. But the knowing look on Gibbs’ face – no jealousy, just _knowing_ – when he opened the door for them had a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“You’re late.” He muttered, taking their coats.

“Don’t worry,” Jen replied, a smug smirk on her lips, “Just getting dessert ready.”

Her face flushed crimson even as her stomach flipped, “You two are horrible.”

Jen chuckled softly, taking her in her arms before she could get too far away, placing a kiss to her lips, “Love you too.”

“Mhmm,” she muttered, kissing back before grabbing at Gibbs’ shirt, pulling him closer for a kiss, “Love you both.”

“Dinner’s gonna burn,” he said against her lips, but he didn’t pull back until he kissed Jen too, “You two behave.”

She watched him walk into the kitchen before Jen took her hand, leading her to the living room. She was far more excited to have dinner with Gibbs and Jen then she was about anything else the night would bring. And that was okay with her.

**A/N: The end. Hope you enjoyed. Please, please, please review!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Please, please, please review! Would love to know your thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> With my work schedule, I don't know if this will get regular updates, but I'll try.


End file.
